If You Need a Friend
by LiveLaughLove728
Summary: Annabeth could use a friend, and she's a bit short on them at the moment. Or is she?


**Hello! Me again.**

 **For whatever reason, I keep getting hit with ideas for stories surrounding Percy's disappearance. So here, my friends, is another one. A friendship fic this time, with Grover because I miss seeing him. :)**

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Annabeth sat in the sand, knees pulled up to her chest, arms wrapped loosely around them, staring out at the Long Island Sound before her. The sky was overcast, threatening rain, and the waves crashed against the shore with measured persistence, as if the ocean was angry. The dreary atmosphere fit her mood.

It was early April and still far too cold for any reasonable person to go to the beach for anything other than observing from afar, meaning the fireworks beach at Camp Half-Blood was almost always deserted. Even so, she had situated herself so far down it so as to be just far enough inside the magical borders that she wouldn't have to worry about attracting monsters. She wanted to be alone.

At least she thought she did. She wasn't exactly sure, but she did know for certain that she didn't want to be around the majority of the campers. Everyone knew just how badly she had taken to Percy's disappearance, even if she didn't want to admit it herself, and she hated the way they all walked on eggshells around her, shooting her looks mixed with concern and pity. She didn't care how miserable she was or how bad she looked, she was a daughter of Athena and she refused to be pitied. Pity was for the weak, and she was not weak.

In theory, she was angry about this, and yet she couldn't bring herself to actually muster any real anger over the fact. She felt nothing except an annoying numbness. She was just too emotionally drained.

She was so tired of this. Of all of it. The watching, and waiting, and worrying. They had something of a plan now, at least. The building of Leo's Argo II was well underway, a fact that probably should have given her some solace. Instead it almost made things worse because until they heard something, they had no way of knowing what they were walking into.

And they hadn't heard anything. Not a single thing since that awful morning, four months ago now, that had turned her whole world upside-down.

She still helped out with the construction, of course; partly because there just weren't enough mechanically inclined people to go around camp as it was, but mostly just to feel like she was doing _something_. Because the only thing she hated more than being pitied was feeling helpless. Unfortunately, she'd experienced quite a bit of both recently.

She wasn't depressed. She knew what that looked like and that wasn't what this was. She wasn't one of those girls who allowed herself to fall into depression from the loss of a boyfriend, no matter the circumstances. No. This was the result of days and weeks spent fruitlessly searching, not eating, and barely sleeping, only to hit wall after wall and learn, in the end, that there was nothing she could do but wait. As Athena's daughter, that did not bode well.

She felt loneliness wash over her like a wave then and realized that she didn't really want to be alone. She just wanted to be with certain people, all of who were conveniently unavailable at the moment. And she missed them. Her dad, who, for all his mistakes, really did love her when it came down to it. Thalia, off with the Hunters. Rachel, away at school. Even Luke to an extent, the brother she'd known as a little girl, before he'd gotten led astray.

And she missed Percy. _Gods,_ she missed him so much.

She just wanted it to be over already. She wanted answers. She wanted her boyfriend back.

Through instinct more than actual senses, Annabeth became aware suddenly of someone walking up behind her. Normally, this would have sparked her training instantly and she would have been on her feet and ready to defend herself in a second. However, she was in camp, still inside the borders, so whoever or whatever it was, therefore, was not particularly malevolent, unless it was one of the Ares campers, in which case, given her current mood, she would have loved to see him or her try.

She continued staring out over the grayish-blue water as whoever it was, rather than attacking her from behind or doing some other ill-advised thing, sat down wordlessly beside her in the sand. She could see, then, that it was Grover.

"Hey, Annabeth," he said quietly, his tone rather dull.

"Hi," she replied in a voice that was barely more than a whisper and a lot weaker sounding than she'd intended it to be.

"Is it, uh, okay if I join you?"

Annabeth, still looking straight ahead, nodded, happy for his company, before turning to meet his eyes. She hadn't seen much of him over the past few months, between their separate escapades to locate Percy and his duties for the Council of Cloven Elders. His horns had grown quite a bit recently and now stuck out several inches above his curly hair. She tried for the smallest of smiles. "Were you looking for me?"

"Um… yeah," he answered, blushing a little.

"I'm surprised you knew to look here."

Grover shrugged. "I know you, I guess." He smirked. "I did try a few other places first though."

Annabeth, smiling slightly again, shrugged. "Sorry."

"S'okay." He looked away then, out at the water himself, and Annabeth turned back again to do the same. They shared a comfortable silence before Grover spoke again with a sigh, his voice quiet. "I miss him."

Annabeth, swallowing around the lump suddenly in her throat, nodded, and managed, "Me too."

He turned his steady eyes on her again and she could see the emotion he was fighting back himself in them. "I miss you too."

Annabeth met his gaze and opened her mouth to reply before closing it again, taken slightly aback. "I know," she said eventually, "I just…"

It was Grover's turn to say, "I know." His voice was surprisingly strong, but gentle. "Just saying."

"I don't know how to handle this," she admitted, surprising herself. She really hadn't spoken openly about her feelings on the situation to anyone except Sally. But this was Grover, who she had known for most of her life by this point. And she knew she wasn't the only one hurting over Percy; the satyr had lost his best friend. "I hate not knowing."

Grover nodded like he understood completely. She knew he did. He and Percy still had an empathy link, which he had assured Annabeth when Percy had first disappeared was still intact, there was just something interfering with it. Though from it, they knew, at least, that he was still alive. "Do you think he remembers us?" Grover asked with the slightest tremble in his voice.

Annabeth shook her head, fighting back another sudden wave of emotion. That was one of the biggest questions that kept her up at night. Did he remember? Did he know who she was still? Would he regain his memory like Jason, or had that been a fluke? Had everything they'd been through been for nothing? "I hope so." Despite her efforts, a single tear fought its way free and traced it's way slowly down her face.

He shook his head. "I just don't get it. There are so many half-bloods here now. Not that I want them to disappear, but… Why Percy? After everything he already did?"

"That's probably exactly why it _was_ him. Because of everything he did."

Grover shook his head again. "Poor Perce. It isn't fair."

"Life isn't fair," Annabeth intoned, "The Fates hate us."

"I really hate those old ladies sometimes," Grover said, his voice surprisingly bitter and without fear, despite the fact that the gods could very easily smite him down for less. But there was no thunder overhead and, honestly, Annabeth was not about to say she disagreed with his assessment. She sighed heavily. She wasn't going to risk actually saying so, though she couldn't help but nod in approval.

"I guess, at the same time, it's a good thing it was Percy though," Grover said then. Annabeth looked at him. "I mean, out of everyone, he's the one I would probably be most sure would come home again. After everything, I… I like to think he'll be okay. W-wherever he is."

As much as she hated to admit it, Grover had a point there. Annabeth had had similar thoughts herself. She supposed it was a little comforting to have her faith in Percy reinforced. "At this point, I wouldn't put anything past him," she said.

Grover looked at her again. "I mean, he's too stubborn not to, isn't he?"

Despite herself, Annabeth snorted. "You've got that right." Percy rarely did anything he didn't want to do. Not if he had any say in the matter.

A smile was playing around the edges of Grover's lips now. "Do you remember Gladiola, the poodle, in those woods in New Jersey?"

"The one Percy didn't want to say hello to?" Annabeth was smiling herself now.

"Yeah! And the look on his face when you told him you did it so he had to do it too!"

"He didn't know what to do then," she laughed.

"Was that before or after he mailed Medusa'a head to Olympus?"

"I think after." Annabeth shook her head. "I thought he was crazy."

"I still do sometimes," Grover said solemnly and Annabeth laughed again.

It felt so good to laugh. She honestly wasn't sure when she'd last done so when it hadn't been a halfhearted attempt for the benefit of others. But it was just the two of them here on the deserted beach, and she found herself happier here with Grover than she'd been in a while. "That was so long ago."

"I know! How old were you, twelve?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Percy had just come to camp."

"Wow." Grover gave another short laugh. "You didn't like him back then, did you?"

"Not at first, no," Annabeth answered, still smirking, remembering the scrawny, black-haired boy twelve-year old Annabeth had at first been sorely disappointed by.

"I could tell. I think I was pretty upset too because he was my friend and I really wanted you to get along." When she smiled, he continued, "And even after you became friends, I wasn't always sure because you guys argued _all the time_."

She laughed again. "We still do."

Grover was grinning. "Yeah, but it's different now."

"Yeah, it is."

He looked at her, serious again. "He'll make it back, Annabeth," he said, "I think we have to believe that."

The corners of her mouth twitched up in a small smile. "Thanks, Grover," she said. Grover smiled back at her and nodded, and she knew she didn't have to say anything else, that he already knew. She'd needed to talk and he'd done that. She'd needed to laugh, and he'd made her. She'd needed a friend, and he'd been that.

And she couldn't help thinking that as long as she still had Grover, maybe, just maybe, she could endure the rest for a little longer.

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 **Thanks for reading!**


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